


Searching...

by uncle_hetfield



Category: Metallica
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Hangover, House Party, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncle_hetfield/pseuds/uncle_hetfield
Summary: After a wild house party, Lars finds himself unable to remember who he slept with while he was black-out drunk.
Relationships: James Hetfield/Lars Ulrich
Kudos: 21





	Searching...

**Author's Note:**

> bt-dubs y'all, i ain't ever written anything like this before so i hope its alright

Lars rolled over in bed with squinted eyes and a pounding headache wreaking havoc on his memories only to see that, not only was he not laying in his own familiar twin bed, someone had recently gotten up from the other side. He sat up quickly in confusion and clutched his head in his hands with a loud groan.

Once the throbbing in his head from sitting up subsided, he surveyed the room closely to look for who it might have been. The room itself was trashed beyond belief with several things from different rooms thrown and strewn about the floor and foot of the bed. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, found his shirt and briefs among the chaos, and stepped over the trash littering the room to investigate further.

Across the hall, he and James' bedroom door was opened and he was able to spot Cliff passed out in his bed and Fred unconscious in the center of the floor on a pile of James and Lars' dirty laundry. In the living room, several unidentifiable people were strewn about and asleep on the couches. Their sound system was still playing James's tapes, which Lars then shut off to start shooing away stragglers from the party last night.

Finally, he had found true peace and quiet. As he headed into the kitchen, he noticed something new on the fridge whiteboard: "WENT 4 BEER - JH + KH." Lars checked the fridge and saw it to be completely empty, save for the last few cans of beer left in the middle shelf and the ungodly amount of condiments stored in the door.

Instead of fretting over beer, he started brewing coffee and sat on the counter next to the coffee pot. He swung his legs and picked at his cuticles mindlessly as he waited until Cliff sauntered in, freshly woken up, with bleary eyes and a cigarette hanging from his lip. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter opposite to Lars.

"You hear the people bangin' in Mark's room last night?" Cliff asked Lars. "I banged someone in Mark's room?" He replied with a goofy smile starting to form at the corners of his mouth. Cliff laughed and let out a large plume of smoke. "Dude, nice fuckin' going. Was it just some random chick or something?" Lars shrugged and grabbed a mug from the cupboard next to his head.

"No clue. I'm trying to figure it out cus I was just, like, totally fuckin' blacked out last night," Lars let out his slightly-squeaking snicker and winced when it worsened his headache. "I'm so god damn hungover…she left before I woke up so do _you_ know who it could'a been?" He asked Cliff, who was already slightly nodding off again.

Cliff shook his head and dragged the hand holding his cigarette down his face as a way to wake himself back up. "Not at all, man, I was out cold by 2:30. I only know you were bangin' someone cus the bed squeaking kept me awake a little longer than I thought it would," he mumbled, taking a long puff off his cigarette.

Lars poured the coffee into his mug and drank it as quick as he could while it scalded his mouth, trying to bring himself out of his hangover as quickly as he could despite the pain he was putting himself through. "Thanks for letting me know what happened, I guess," Lars said with a slur, trying to give his burning tongue a break. "No problem-o, bud," Cliff grumbled as he stiffly shuffled back to Lars's room to fall asleep again.

He found himself deeper in thought than before. Could it have been the redhead Kirk kept trying to chat up all night? No, she said she wasn't into him. The goth with the black hair that Cliff kept doing shots with? Not her either, she only hung around Cliff exclusively the whole time. He dug deeper into his memory, focusing as hard as he could, but only came to the conclusion that whoever he slept with was an unruly-headed blonde with too much hair for him to even handle. God knows there's tons of those in the Bay area.

After he refilled his mug, he returned to Mark's room and began to look for clues, picking up any article of clothing he could make out. He found sweat wristbands galore, a tygers of pan tang shirt, a venom shirt, and several other shirts that all could have been worn by anyone at the party. He tossed away all of it in frustration and plopped down on the side of the bed the other person left from.

He eyed everything with curiosity before landing on the pillow, which he picked up and smelled to try and get a clue. The scent, other than that of Mark's, was too faint to recognize completely. A loud groan escaped his throat and he dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair as he tried replaying memory after memory. Nothing was cropping up.

By the time James and Kirk had returned from buying beer, Lars was slouched on the couch with his mug of coffee on his chest, boredly and mindlessly flipping through religious channel after religious channel. Kirk, with his head thrown back, sloppily threw the beer cases into the fridge and went to join Cliff in sleep again while James fell onto the couch next to Lars, swinging his arm onto the back of the couch over his friend. The beer can cracked open and James began to chuckle.

"Man, Mark's gonna be so pissed when he comes back," James laughed, taking a drink of the beer. This caught Lars's attention very quickly. "Did'ja bang someone in there too?" Lars asked with a smug grin. 

His friend scoffed. "The fuck you mean 'too'? Did you go in there and bang someone after me?" Lars only shrugged. "Dunno, she left before I could get a good look at her. All I remember about mine was that she was blonde and had a shit ton of hair. You remember what yours looked like?" James stopped to think for a long moment but shook his head soon after.

"No clue. She was just this little brunette thing. I mean…I got a thing for brunettes, so lucky me I suppose. She was even still there when I left to get beer!" He smiled proudly with the can at his lips. Lars rolled his eyes and took a drink of his coffee at the same time James did. "Lucky-ass. Mine left before I even woke up. I think she might have given me a good morning kiss on the cheek, though."

James' eyes knit together in confusion as an odd feeling in his chest began to arise. "Huh. I gave mine a kiss on the cheek before I got up...funny coincidence." His voice echoed slightly in the can and the odd feeling subsided soon after. Eventually, the conversation stopped and they sat silently watching TV, leaning against each other in sheer boredom until Kirk came flying out of their room like a bat out of hell.

"Guys, holy shit, where did you wake up this morning?" He questioned urgently. Simultaneously, Lars and James spoke up. "Mark's room?" Both of their faces drained of their color when they realized what the other said and Kirk covered his mouth with his hands to try and muffle his hysterically loud, wheezing laugh.

They looked each other in the eyes and every memory from the night before came flooding back to James as his expression contorted several different ways. "Oh my god, I fucked you. Oh my _god,_ I _**fucked**_ you," he panicked and stood up from the couch then paced around with his hair clenched in his hands.

Lars sat completely still on the couch as the night replayed in his head over and over. James yelling "Why are you BLUSHING!?" brought Lars back to reality. "Christ, I swear I'm not gay," James yelled to Kirk with vehement denial evident in his voice. "I mean you kinda are if you fucked me," Lars piped up. James turned around and pointed at him with a trembling hand. "No, nuh-uh, shut it, I'm not gay!" He demanded, rushing towards the back door.

"You are if you had the chance to see my face in the light this morning and _still_ gave me a kiss!" Lars pointed out barely a second before the door slammed shut. When Kirk stopped covering his mouth, he was reeling back from his uncontrollable laughter and wiped the tears that had started falling down his cheeks. 

Lars, though thinking about it with a huge, mischeivous smile plastered on his face, decided not to mention to Kirk that he had remembered James calling him the best he's ever had to prevent another wheezing fit. Instead, he simply drank the final sip of coffee from his mug and continued to watch the TV in silence.


End file.
